The Plague of Terminal City
by X5R-731
Summary: A mysterious epidemic is sweeping the transgenic race. The ordinary populace is fearful that it will jump spieces. Seattle is ready to explode, it will take just a small spark to set it off. Suddenly a mysterious blue box appears. Dark Angel Xover
1. CONTAGION

**THE**

**PLAGUE**

**OF**

**TERMINAL **

**CITY**

By

X5R-731

_**Disclaimer: **Cameron and company owns dark Angel, while Doctor Who is the property of the BBC. Please, please, please don't sue me._

_**Time placement:** This story takes place four years after Max A Collins' "After the Dark" (which I consider canon until the series is picked up again), and during the Dr. Who comic strip adventures from DWMagazine. Although I should point out the companions traveling with the 8th Doctor didn't travel with him all at the same time. (Destrii didn't join until Sins of the Father, long after Izzy and Kroton said good-bye.)_

CONTAGION 

_Report._

_Phase 3 is in progress, Imperatrix._

_Do the humans suspect?_

_No. They are too preoccupied with their own petty prejudices._

_What is the status of the experiment?_

_The test subjects are proving more resistant that earlier predicted._

_How will this affect the overall project?_

_Predictions indicate it could take an extra 28 kras for total fruition._

_Unacceptable. The project must come to total fruition in no more than 9 kras, understood._

_Yes Imperatrix. We are attempting to accelerate growth to maintain our timetable._

_Very well. Proceed._

NEWS REPORT

We are now in the third week of the Terminal City Plague. The exact number of transgenics who have succumbed to the mysterious disease is unknown, but sources say dozens of Terminal City citizens have been infected. The Center for Disease Control in collaboration with city officials and transgenic leaders has worked tirelessly to isolate the sick and slow the spread of disease. The plague began when transgenic senatorial hopeful, Alec, collapsed at a political debate. After he was rushed to hospital, incumbent Senator Julia Tarrison made this video statement – _Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Streaming Freedom video bulletin. This cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced; it cannot be stopped and remains the only free voice in this city._

_Despite the actions, insinuations and innuendo perpetuated by Tarrison's camp, the so-called transgenic flu is no threat to the general populace. It is the result of a genetic defect in the genome structure, cooked up inside them by an administration that tried to play God and was only partially successful._

_If the administration is given the right to let this community die, how long before they start allowing other groups of people die, all in the name of 'public safety'?_

_Peace, out._

METRO MEDICAL HOSPITAL

"Code Blue. Code Blue."

Max, flanked by her ever-present bodyguards Joshua and Krit, watched helplessly the observation glass as doctors and technicians raced to save the life of the patient on the operating table. The once rakishly handsome and debonair Alec had been reduced to and emaciated old man covered with blisters by the disease. According to the heart monitors his heart was racing uncontrollably fast. The doctors desperately tried to slow his heart to no avail. Eventually the monitors flat lined. The medics began CPR but to no avail. Alec was dead.

Flanked by Krit and Joshua, Max left the hospital to inform the rest of Terminal City of it first fatality.

As far away from Terminal City's problems as physically and philosophically as one could possibly get, an incongruous blue box with a flashing light on top spun leisurely through the space/time vortex. By its appearance the object looked more comfortable on a London street corner in the middle of the twentieth century. However as everyone knows, appearances can be deceiving.

The box was really a TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimensions In Space) machine, capable of traveling to any time period to anywhere in the cosmos. Theoretically its shape was infinitely variable but for some reason or another it remained in the shape of a Police Call Box. Inside the TARDIS was infinitely bigger, comprising of many rooms and corridors, the console room being the most impressive.

Originally gleaming white with a hexagonal control console and a center column. The console still existed but had been refurbished in mahogany along with the rest of the console room giving it a Victorian study feel. It even had a recliner and reading lamp in a corner and an old gramophone playing in another.

The owner of this machine (or more appropriately its primary occupant) was known only as the Doctor, a centuries old traveler who looked like he was in his mid-thirties. Aquiline good looks with soulful blue eyes topped off with long curly hair, he looked every inch the eccentric Victorian scientist (although his costume was based more on dandified Wild Bill Hickok). Currently he fussed over the console; his sleeves rolled up like a master craftsman making sure it was perfect.

"Have we arrived yet," an electronically modulated voice purred.

The Doctor gave an involuntary shudder at the sound but said over his shoulder, companionably, "Not yet. But soon Kroton, soon."

Kroton was a Cyberman, a Junior CyberLeader to be specific. Normally the Doctor wouldn't have let a Cyberman within fifty parsec of his TARDIS. The Cybermen had once been humans who replaced their organs with steel and plastic until all traces of humanity had been erased. Now emotionless creatures of ruthless logic, they existed for one purpose – to proliferate and survive. Throughout the cosmos they had plundered planets for there resources, converting suitable species into beings like them. The Doctor had tangled with them with them in the past, thwarting their plans to conquer Earth on more than one occasion.

An imposing figure at almost two meters tall, he was completely silver with a square shaped head, two blank holes for eyes and a slit for a mouth. Just above his forehead was a light that could project a beam of light capable of either mesmerizing of killing a human. What set Kroton apart from other Cybermen was that a part of the man he'd once been had survived the conversion process.

It had started on the Cybermen's adopted home world of Telos. Junior CyberLeader Kroton had been assigned to a special taskforce to help quell a rebellion on the planet Mondarran. The day he was scheduled to leave, he'd found himself staring up at the Telosian sky wondering if he'd ever see it again. That should have been the first warning sign, but he put it out of his mind. Once on Mondarran though things got worse. He found himself puzzled by human reactions. The Cybermen were stronger, more intelligent, it was logical that the Cyber race ultimately succeed, yet small groups of humans continued to resist them with little more than primitive hand held weapons. What further confused him was how some humans willingly sacrificed their own lives and endured torture while others collaborated with the Cybermen. After a conversation with a captured rebel leader, Kroton agreed to help him and a handful of other escape, destroying at least two other Cybermen in the process.

Nowhere else to go and unsure of his place in the universe, he took a shuttle and went out into deep space. The Doctor had found him on board an abandoned Starliner called the Flying Dutchman II and, after some initial misunderstanding, the Doctor invited him to join the TARDIS crew. Recently Kroton had been in need of repairs and had found what they needed on a derelict Cyber vessel. Also, Kroton had collected a damaged Cybermat. Cybermats were small, bug-like machines used by Cybermen as spies and saboteurs. Kroton had domesticated it and made it hit pet. The Doctor didn't know what was more disconcerting: that he allowed a Cyberman and Cybermat willingly on his TARDIS or that said Cyberman was gently cradling it in his palm, stroking it absently. The Cybermat (dubbed Scarper by Izzy) chattered contentedly, like a purring cat.

"Call the girls and let them know we're about to materialize."

Before Kroton could comply, the two other members of this particular crew.

Primatriax Destriianatos (Destrii for short) came from Oblivion, home to a genetically manipulated species (basically no two individuals were alike). Destrii had the physique of an Olympic swimmer, not surprising as she had the facial features and physical characteristics of a fish. She had blue skin, webbed hands and feet and purple dreadlock-like hair swept back, hanging loosely around her shoulders. She strode into the console room wearing her favorite outfit – a purple bikini with gold trim.

The Doctor once described her as an egocentric, immature hellion with a vicious streak wider than the Gobi desert. But after she risked her life to save the residents of Hippocrates Base from the cruel Zeronites, rather than dump her back on Oblivion the Doctor offered her a place on the TARDIS, which she eagerly accepted.

The final member of the crew was a teenage girl from a small village in northern England called Stockbridge. Izzy Sinclair had been an amateur paranormal investigator and X-Files enthusiast who joined the Doctor to escape the mundane ness of small town life. She had been traveling with the Doctor longer than the others and had seen many wonderful and horrifying things. Now she was ready to go home.

She looked around at this eclectic bunch of people she'd developed special relationships with. The Doctor: her mentor and teacher who had taught her so much; Kroton: the overprotective big little brother who constantly needed help understanding his emotions and the human condition; and Destrii, she really didn't know how to define their relationship.

When they first met, Destrii had stolen her body leaving her at the mercy of Mobox bounty hunters. When she'd eventually got her body back, Izzy and Destrii's minds briefly touched, each getting a special insight into the others lives. Destrii had literally grown up in a gladiatorial pit, feared by everyone her, while Izzy had grown up feeling emotionally isolated because she was adopted and harbored feeling for girls. Izzy was ready to go home and make peace with her parents – provided she ever got there.

"Well," she said. "Have we landed?"

"Well," the Doctor said, running a hand through his hair. "I know for a fact its Earth, December nineteenth. As for where and what year…" he shrugged apologetically. At her look he added quickly, "But I'm sure once we get an exact location, getting you home should be comparatively simple."

"I've heard that before."

The Doctor plucked his coat off a hat stand and swung it around his shoulders. "Best dress warmly everyone, it's a bit nippy out. Izzy take Kroton into the wardrobe room and see if you can find him something suitable to wear and Destrii," the Doctor pulled a small disk from his coat pocket and tossed it too her.

Destrii caught it effortlessly saying sarcastically, "Yeah, yeah, don't want to scare the natives. Dumb mammals, scared of their own reflection."

She clipped the disk to her waist and her holo-disguise shimmered on.

The Doctor exited the TARDIS with a pair of fluffy earmuffs, a scarf thrown loosely around his neck and a pair of wool-knit mittens, followed by Destrii as a dark skinned woman with a long ponytail. She was wearing jeans, a white t-shirt and leather jacket as part of her disguise.

"Aren't you cold," the Doctor asked.

"Nah, I can endure temperatures of minus fifty. Part of being a fish girl, you're never sure how cold the ocean will be."

Izzy stepped out of the ship bundled up in suitable clothing topped off by a rainbow bobble hat, pulling a reluctant Kroton after her.

Izzy had managed to find some industrial sized pants and overcoat to cover his bulky frame. The hood pulled low over his face and a heavy scarf did nothing to hide the odd shape of his head. Also, there were no gloves or boots to cover his hands and feet. Hopefully nobody would look to closely and ask where he got his shiny new gloves and boots.

"I feel – ridiculous."

"Don't worry," Destrii said. "You look it, too."

"So where are we," Izzy interjected.

"Wherever it is," Destrii said. "It's a dump."

"Destrii!"

"Well it is."

Izzy was force to agree. They'd landed inn the middle of a slum. It looked like half the buildings were held together with nothing more than tape and bubblegum.

"I'd say we're in Seattle, Washington, United States of America sometime in the early to middle twenty-first century."

"What makes you say that?"

"That." The Doctor pointed off into the distance to a skyscraper. "The Space Needle combined with the general state of disrepair."

"How did things get like this?"

"In 2009 an electro-magnetic pulse shorted out all the computers, turning the last great super power into a third world nation. Now life is a daily struggle for most people not to starve."

As the quartet walked along, they passed a newsstand where the headlines "Plague City" and "Transie Extinction" caught the Doctor's eye. He grabbed every title he could, handing them to Kroton and tossed a Spanish doubloon to the vendor as payment.

"Hey," the vendor protested.

"Don't worry, its genuine." The Doctor called back, flipping through the paper.

"Doctor," Izzy said, trying to keep up. "What is it?"

He stopped outside a bar called Crash. He looked up and said, "Yes this is as good a place as any." And marched inside. Izzy and Destrii exchanged looks and followed, a put out Kroton not far behind.

Original Cindy sat at her usual table nursing her beer half listening to another one of Sketchy's convoluted conspiracy theories. She missed Max. She hadn't seen much of her since she became leader of the transgenics, but since the plague surface she hadn't seen her boo at all in weeks. Like every other transgenic, Max was shut up in Terminal City, to prevent the spread of infection (or so the news claimed).

Original Cindy was startled when Sketchy suddenly stopped talking. She looked up to see him staring past her at the entrance. Turning around in her chair she saw what had caught her friends attention. A dandy reading a newspaper waltzed in followed by a giant, a cute white girl and a fine looking sistah. The two females went to the bar while the dandy sat at a disused booth. The giant placed the stack of papers he was carrying on the table and sat across from his companion.

The sistah already gathered a following, Sketchy among them, but it was the white girl that caught Cindy's attention. There was a tired, world-weariness that drew Cindy. She leaned against the bar and said conversationally, "Hey."

The girl looked up, surprised, but responded with an adorably shy, lopsided smile. "Hi," she said revealing a British accent that only added to her mystique.

"You new in town?"

"Just passing threw."

"Cynthia McBeachim. Original Cindy."

"Isabelle Sinclair. Izzy."

Kroton observed the interaction between Izzy and the human female. It was different than Destrii's with the other patrons, more intimate and his visual sensors could detect increased chemical irregularities in her endorphin count. A word to describe this tugged at the back of his mind – flirting, yes, that was it. He wondered if he'd done that before waking up in his alcove in CyberHive 618.

He continued to observe the other patrons as the Doctor flipped through his papers while keeping an eye on Izzy. Destrii had been trained as a warrior, literally from birth so whatever trouble she got into logic dictated she would handle herself. Izzy's fragile organic form coupled with her ability to attract trouble almost as much as the Doctor, caused a great deal of concern.

Izzy hoped "Let's get outta here" meant the same thing in the twenty-first century as it did in the twentieth. She'd been enjoying herself immensely. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so open in a conversation with another female (at least not from Earth). Back home in Stockbridge, while other girls had been ogling Tom Cruise, she'd been fantasizing about Nicole Kidman. This just added to her feelings of isolation, making it difficult for her to trust herself. But now, after traveling with the Doctor, she was surer of herself

Outside, Cindy gently pushed Izzy against the wall and kissed her softly. Izzy responded, hoping she was doing it right. Kissing was something she didn't have a whole lot of experience in, with the exception of Fey Truscott-Slade (a time hoping antique dealer) Izzy had been living locked and barred in the closet.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," the Doctor railed. "The so-called news media of this city is a joke. They go on about a virulent disease and some pseudo-religious claptrap about God cleansing the transgenic scourge but they don't say what the transgenics actually are!"

"Hey, Doctor."

Destrii approached accompanied by a skinny human who apparently got dressed in the dark and had no colour co-ordination. "This is Sketchy. He says he can tell us anything you want to know about the transgenics."

"Really," he didn't sound convinced, then remembered something. Rummaging through the discarded newspapers, he pulled out a copy of the New World Weekly. "Calvin Theodore?"

Sketchy winced slightly at the sound of his given name. "Yeah."

"Have a seat. I found your article about alien virology fascinating. The details are completely wrong, of course, but your overall theory has merit."

As the Doctor and Sketchy drifted off onto the topic of transgenics and possible alien involvement, Destrii returned to the bar.

"Izzy."

Izzy and Cindy jumped apart at the sound of Kroton's voice. The young ladies sighed in annoyance.

"You shouldn't wander off."

"Kroton, I'll be fine."

"We need to stick together. When the trouble starts-"

"The further away from the Doctor the safer I'll be. Besides you know how to find me."

Kroton had to there was a loose logic to that. The Doctor tended to attract trouble more than the others (with the exception of Destrii). And he did have built in sensors that could home in on Izzy's unique brainwaves within a fifty-kilometer radius. Still he had what the other would call a "gut feeling" that it was better not to separate.

Meanwhile, back in Crash a patron jostled Destrii, damaging her holographic imager. Her disguise disappeared, leaving her exposed to everyone in the bar.

"Great, now I suppose you want to fight?"

Watching Izzy and her knew friend leave, he contemplated what to do next when all of a sudden he heard a commotion coming from an alley in the opposite direction. Investigating, he saw four big human males beating a small bundle of rags with large heavy wooden clubs.

"Stinking freak," on of the men snarled. "Should've wiped you out when we had the chance."

The bundle of rags moaned pitifully and tried to stir only to be viciously clubbed down. As the first male brought his club down a mighty metal fist caught it.

"Stop," Kroton stated. "All sentient life must be respected."

A second male swung his bat at Kroton's back. It splintered into several pieces. Kroton didn't even flinch.

"He's one of them," someone screamed.

The two remaining males charged, brandishing their clubs. Kroton caught the assailants' bats in his hands and snapped them like twigs. He then effortlessly lifted the two men off the ground by their shirts and dropped them into a nearby dumpster.

The bundle of rags jumped up with an agility alien to human beings, dropkicking the male who'd splintered his club across his back. Without touching the ground, the rag pile somersaulted in the air, hurtling the attacker into the same dumpster. Kroton observed this with what he assumed was amazement.

"Look out," it yelled in a decidedly female voice.

Kroton turned around to see the first male had produced a gun.

"Die freak!" he fired twice, point blank.

The bullets bounced harmlessly off his metallic hide, but put holes in his borrowed parka. The male looked on in horror as Kroton advanced on him, unhurt. Emptying his clip ineffectually into the juggernaut, he screamed as Kroton wrenched the gun out of his hand and lifted him off the ground. Kroton crumpled the gun like tinfoil as he carried the assailant to the dumpster. After dropping him inside, Kroton pulled down the lid and squeezed the edges trapping them inside. They'd get out – eventually.

He turned his attention to the rag pile had approached him. A hood had fallen back, revealing what Kroton surmised was a female transgenic. She had long, thin green hair and large black eyes. Her flat noseless face was covered with blue and yellow designs. Kroton's internal scanners detected frog DNA, specifically Dendrobates tinctorius, aka the poison dart frog. She looked up at him in wonder and tentatively touched him with a three-digit webbed hand.

"Are you a Steelhead," she asked.

"A – what? No I am Kroton."

"Oh, I'm Francie."

"You are a – transgenic. Shouldn't you be in Terminal City?"

"I was on my back there when these creeps jumped me."

"I see."

Just them two bodies flew through a window of Crash. Kroton turned to see Destrii (in her natural form) follow with three more patrons. Destrii fought them off with ease, but sheer numbers were overwhelming her. The Doctor and Sketchy exited through the door and tried to help. The Doctor's Venusian aikido and Martian karate incapacitated many of them while Sketchy's clumsy attempts at fighting gave the mob someone else to hit.

Kroton sighed. "If you'll excuse me, a friend of mine has gotten involved in another fight."

"Hey, wait up." Francie hopped after him.

Kroton pulled them off Destrii, while Francie used her powerful leg muscles to keep the others away. Sirens pierced the air, stopping the brawl, instantly. Everyone scattered, some even going back into the bar.

"Guess that's are queue to leave," Destrii said.

"Where?"

"Terminal City," Francie suggested.

"Who're you?"

"Doctor this is Francie," Kroton said. "Francie, Doctor."

"Can we save the introductions for later," Sketchy said. "We gotta go."

"Quite right. Terminal City it is."

The party got to the outskirts of Terminal City well enough, but getting in proved more difficult. Fortunately Francie and Sketchy knew the tunnels that could get them in discretely. As they made their way to the secret entrance Sector Cops spotted them.

"Halt or we fire!"

The air filled with bullets before the warming was complete.

To Be Continued …


	2. QUARENTINE

**THE**

**PLAGUE**

**OF**

**TERMINAL **

**CITY**

By

X5R-731

_**Disclaimer: **Cameron and company owns Dark Angel, while Doctor Who is the property of the BBC. Please, please, please don't sue me._

**QUARENTINE **

Max wandered amongst the bunks accompanied by one of her ever-present bodyguards (today it was Krit) doing what she could to make the patients comfortable or raise their morale. They'd moved the patients outside because a) there was no room inside and b) the only way of dealing with progenia was to keep their bodies cool. She passed Bullet who was sitting with Ralph (she had just recently begun to show the early stages of progenia). She remembered when she first met then, part of a group of nervous Manticore refugees. Bullet had gotten his name from a leg wound he'd received in the escape and Ralph had gotten hers because she'd thrown up trying to treat it. They'd been inseparable ever since. Max gave Bullet a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before moving on. The press had compared her actions to that of Churchill during the Blitz, or Guiliani and 9/11. Which was fine with her, as they always needed good press.

Max observed doctors and other medical personnel did their best to treat their patients. Even Lydecker was doing his best to find a cure, always closely guarded by Lane and Keema. He was just as desperate to save the transgenics as she was. He'd been a prisoner of the transgenics since Max had rescued him from the Familiars Mad House on the condition the he'd tell her where her mother was. Unfortunately the institution he'd shipped her off to had been shut down years ago, the patients scattered and lost after the pulse wiped the computers. Why she just didn't turn him over to Mole and the others, she didn't know. Maybe it was because he was the closest thing to a father she'd ever known. Or maybe he'd simply programmed her and the others not to harm him. Either was plausible.

Despite news reports to the contrary, the CDC had done very little to help them out. Either the right forms didn't get processed or lost altogether, while supplies were misplaced or hijacked. All the doctors here were local, having volunteered from nearby hospitals (old friends Sam Carr and Beverly Shankar among them).

Hours after the sun went down, Max and Krit decided to turn in. Krit escorted Max to her room. Max's room was an old office with a beat up old desk and a bedroll in the corner.

"You should try and get some shut eye, too," Max said.

Krit smiled. "I'm going to take a another tour around the perimeter, first. Then I'm checking in with Joshua about our rotation."

The X5 siblings hugged before turning in. Max and Krit were the last of the 09 escapees. Of the twelve who'd gotten away, they were the only one left. The others were either dead or recaptured. Technically that wasn't true, but Jondy was still MIA and Zack wasn't Zack any more.

Max unzipped her parka to reveal her slightly swollen belly. Looking down, she gently caressed her abdomen thinking about the life growing inside her. This would be third child. _Oh God, THIRD,_ Max thought. There was a time in her future where children had never existed, now she had three! She had the disease – they all did – but pregnant women and the nomalies seemed to show a greater resistance. Dying didn't scare her. Max had long accepted that she wasn't the "die in her sleep surrounded by fat grandkids" type, but losing the life inside her, terrified her beyond description. She had been raised to take life, the prospect of creating life still left her overwhelmed.

In grown instincts warned her she was not alone – but those same instincts told her the intruder was a friend. Without turning around she commented, smiling, "You don't squeak anymore."

Standing in the far corner Logan Cale, otherwise known as Eyes Only, champion of the oppressed and defender of the innocent, smiled warmly. "Parts came in two weeks ago. Finally got them installed properly yesterday."

The exo-skeleton that enabled Logan to walk didn't make a sound as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his hands on her bump. Max leaned back into his embrace, losing herself in that feeling of warmth she'd first experienced as a ten-year-old runaway in an isolated cabin.

"How're you holding up?"

"We lost Luke, yesterday."

"I'm sorry."

"He never forgave you for breaking his code box."

"Served him right for trying to break into my files."

"If you hadn't gotten yourself kidnapped, he wouldn't have had to go into your computer."

Logan chuckled softly, nuzzling her hair. "Fair enough."

Max turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around her neck. "So what brings you to Plague City? Did you find anything?"

Logan shook his head. "Afraid not. Information I'm getting is conflicted."

Max bit her lip. "How're-"

"They miss you," it was clear from his tone he included himself in that statement. Logan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a videodisk. "They sent you an update on their activities."

Max took the disk and held it in her hand like it was a precious jewel. She hadn't heard from her children since the outbreak. They'd tried to evacuate the children at the first sign of plague, but the authorities clamped down isolating the transgenics from the rest of the population. Max and Logan's kids were at his parent's cabin and Gem's daughter, Eve, was staying with Normal of all people. The toddler and taken to her "Uncle Rae" very well and helped him to work. She'd become quite a fixture around Jam Pony even calling Sketchy by Normal's favourite nickname. One way or another the girl was going to be seriously warped when she came home.

Max pulled Logan's mouth to hers and kissed him deeply. Eventually Max broke the kiss and asked, "Can you stay?"

"Is that such a good idea?"

"Probably not." She pulled his lips back to hers.

Senator Julia Tarrison was not having a good day. After being badgered by reporters all day, she was now suffering a visit from Obadiah Torrance. Right now all she wanted to do was go home and get ready for her daughter's recital, but that didn't seem likely. The evangelical leader of God's Chosen Children was ranting (as always) about his favourite subject.

"How much longer must we suffer these abominations? The very fact that they exist at all is an affront to God-"

"Please Mr. Torrance, no sermons. I'm well aware of the threat the transgenics pose to humanity."

"Have you seen the paper," Torrance was practically frothing at the mouth.

A lifetime in politics had taught the senator to hide her emotions but what she read made her stomach churn. The press is painting these monsters as tragic victims! Didn't these people know that these freaks were killers? From birth that was what they'd been raised as and it was what they were. Torrance was starting up full sermon, all fire and brimstone so it was best to cut him off before he hit his stride.

"Spare me your tirades Obie. We're moving as fast as we can given the circumstances."

"We should move faster. They're starting to breed. We have right on our side."

"There are various human rights groups who'd beg to differ."

"THEY AREN'T HUMAN!

"I know! But the rest of the world won't accept that. Until they realize the truth we move at are our present pace. Go back to your pulpit and educate the people the best way you can, while I handle things from my end."

Torrance's mouth was a thing line of anger as he turned on his heel and marched out without another word.

"Passionate man, isn't he," said Robert Sanford, her faithful aide, dryly.

"Can you blame him? Have you seen the headlines? They're painting that freak bitch queen up as some sort of modern day Lincoln. Ames White, now there was a hero. While our so-called leaders waffled and debated the transgenic problem he tried to do something about it. And what did he get for his efforts? Discharged from the NSA and on the run on trumped up charges of conspiracy and corruption."

"Yes, the NSA does take a dim view of their agents allowing psychotic killers to roam around free."

"They're all killers. What has our government done about the rest of them?"

"Agreed. But so far none of them have ever skinned their victims. And they have behaved themselves for the last four years. In fact they've done more for the economy of Seattle than any of previous elected officials."

"Mark my words Robert, it's only a matter of time before they give in to their nature. This disease is humanity's last hope."

Max lay in her sleeping roll, her hand resting Logan's chest. His sleep was so deep he wasn't even snoring. It had been a long time since they'd shared sleeping accommodations. The last time had been at the Cale family cabin, when they'd taken the kids for a family vacation. Unlike most of their planned time off, this had been going rather well until news of the plague had reached them. They'd rushed back leaving the children in the care of Logan's cousin Bitsy.

She worried about him. He was probably sitting up all night staring at his computer screen, working twenty-four hours a day, not eating or sleeping. No doubt between trying to find the source of the disease, he was still working on his Eyes Only and S1W missions. She was beginning to see what those debutantes at Bennett Cale's wedding had meant when they said he needed looking after.

Max felt an unpleasant twinge at the base of her spine. Flinching, she rolled onto her back trying to make herself more comfortable. She looked down at her swelling baby bump and could've sworn it had gotten bigger. However it would still be another five months before she gave birth. That must have irritated the folks at Manticore somewhat, realizing that no matter how advanced your genes, it still took nine months gestation period for an infant to develop. She thought about her own children.

Eva Brin Guevera and Jack Samuel Cale conceived Christmas Day 2021 (ironically the first time her and Logan had been together) born August 23, 2022. Named after the brothers and sisters lost to her and Logan's friend and doctor. They'd argued long and hard over Jack's middle name. Max had wanted to name him after his father but Logan had been adamant about there being no more Logans in his family and Max had been equally adamant about future Zacks. They'd eventually remembered Dr. Carr jokingly requesting they name their first born after him when the virus was out of their lives and settled for that. For some reason, while everyone called him Jack, Eva had taken to calling him Sammy and only she was allowed to call him that – no one else.

When the media had caught wind of Max's pregnancy there'd been a firestorm of media speculation of who'd sired an heir for the transgenic queen. Joshua had been the early favourite, mainly because he was Terminal City's second most popular resident. He had denied this off-handedly, stating it was impossible as he was a dog and Max was a cat. And as everyone knows, cats and dogs were incompatible. Later the press turned to the more "realistic" possibility of Seattle City Councilman Alec, who had earned Max's eternal ire by not outright denying the allegations. He only started denying it when it started interfering with his own love life. Whenever Max was asked she always replied, "None of your damn business!"

Max's fidgeting awoke Logan. "Back bothering you again?"

"It's nothing."

But Logan was having none of that. "C'mon, turn over."

Max obediently rolled onto her side, her back facing him. He began to slowly massage the kinks out of her aching back. This was all Max wanted, Hell what all the trangenics wanted, a little peace and quiet with someone special. Was that so bad? Max drifted off to sleep under Logan's ministrations. A loud banging on the door rudely awakened them both.

"Go away," Max shouted wanting to spend just a few more seconds in her significant others company.

"Max," Krit yelled from the other side of the door. "Max get up! We have a situation at the mouth of one of the tunnels!"

Max sighed and swung out of her sleeping roll, Logan followed and they both quickly got dressed.

What greeted them at the entrance of one of the supply tunnels was a very bizarre tableau. Surrounded by armed transgenics was a fish girl, a Victorian enthusiast, a robot in bullet shredded clothes all with their hands raised ridiculously high with a bundle of rags crouching on the ground like a frog and –

"Sketchy!" Max screamed.

She rushed over to where her friend was sitting on the ground clutching his shoulder. Blood gushing from an untended wound and had already started to cake his hands.

Max glared angrily at Mole. "What happened? Why hasn't this been treated?"

"I offered to treat his injury," the curly haired Victorian began.

"But turtle head over there wouldn't let us touch him," fish girl finished, indicating Mole.

"Some rather overenthusiastic young people in uniform inexplicably shot at us. Fortunately the one they were shooting at is bulletproof."

Max motioned for a pair of X6's to take Sketchy to the infirmly. "Now who are you?"

"How do you do," he said taking Max's hand and shaking it vigorously. "I'm the Doctor, the silver chap is Kroton, the girl with the gills is Destrii and the huddled bundle of rags is called-"

"Francie," Joshua announced stepping forward.

"Hi Joshua," Francie said hopping toward her fellow nomalie.

When she tilted her head up to look at Joshua, Max got a good look at her face and saw she looked like a frog. Joshua made no effort to approach Francie, which was odd for Joshua.

When Max mentioned this, Francie said, "I sweat poison. Anyone touches me they get sick."

"I know the feeling," Max said, remembering the year she spent with the designer virus intended to kill Eyes Only.

"So what exactly are you a doctor of," Logan asked.

"Oh this and that," the Doctor said. "Mostly that, but enough this to get by. Anyway I heard about this plague of yours and thought I'd offer my considerable experience in helping to find a cure. Now normally it's not in my nature t interfere" – Destrii snorted with laughter – "but in this case I thought, why not." Looking into their skeptical faces he added, "I do have some official qualification if you'd like."

He began rummaging through his pockets pulling out all sorts of odd items: steel wool, ball of yarn, toy car, a spigot, bag of jellybeans, a Webster's Pocket Dictionary ("Uneducated scribbler," the Doctor muttered contemptuously before throwing it away). Eventually pulling out a variety of plastic cards. "London driver's license expired 1974, member ship to the Royal Society expired 1749, pilots license for the Arya-Sedna run, Alpha Centauri Table Tennis Club, ah here we are."

He handed one of the cards to Logan. "United Nations Intelligence Taskforce?"

"Yes it's our mandate to investigate the odd, unexplained, weird and not-so-wonderful. And I don't see anything stranger that a disease that target one specific group of people, don't you?"

Indeed it did and after assessing that this group was no real threat, Max, Logan and the others escorted the Doctor and company to the research lab. The lab consisted of a couple of computer banks and monitors and various medical equipment. The only doctors working in the lab were Sam and Beverly and a few volunteer lab technicians. Lydecker was also pouring over data flanked, as always by Lane and Keema. The Doctor quickly introduced himself and set to work.

"Kroton see if you can assist the computer. Destrii, Izzy – where's Izzy?"

"As I've been trying to tell you," Kroton said. "She went off with a young woman last night."

The Doctor groaned. "I've told that girl a hundred times not to wander off. Now how are we supposed to find her and let her know where we are?"

A muffled chirping came from Kroton's shredded coat pocket. Kroton tore off the remains of his flimsy garments, pulling Scarper out of his hiding place.

"You brought that along."

"I couldn't very well leave him alone in the ship could I? No telling what he'd get up to unsupervised. Besides, be grateful I did, he can locate Izzy faster than any of us."

This was true. Cybermats were designed as spies, saboteurs and assassins, capable of getting into and out of all manner of places. Scarper could home in on Izzy's brainwaves anywhere within a fifteen kilometer are. Kroton sent a quick mental command to his pet and Scarper twitched his antennae with eager anticipation in response. Kroton put him on the floor and everybody watched with bemused fascination as the tiny metallic bug scurried across the floor and disappeared into a hole in the wall.

TERMINAL CITY MESS HALL 

Mole watched Destrii as she walked through the mess with growing resentment. It was bad enough Max entrusted their survival to these strangers but practically letting them roam freely through Terminal City was asking for trouble. The ordinary and the robot had the sense to stay in the lab, but fish girl could be seen prancing through the streets in her yellow and purple bikini.

She didn't carry herself like a nomalie for one thing. Even after four years in the open, the nomalies still tended to walk hunched over and nervous. She was tall, proud, and unashamed with just enough arrogance. It irritated Mole to see a nomalie so comfortable in her own skin. Seeing all the admiring glances she was appreciating only added to his annoyance

Destrii sat down at a vacant table, picking at her food. Was it so much to ask for them to serve her something live (something that was covered with fleas)? She liked to think she'd developed a cosmopolitan appetite with her travels, but whatever this gloop was it would do nothing for her dietary tract (and she had the digestive system of a tiger shark).

There was nothing more boring than scientists talking science speak, so she'd decided to take a tour of Terminal City. Eventually she'd found herself in the company of more animal people and felt instantly at home. It reminded her of Oblivion, the only difference being, their people with beast-like features were nobility. Well they had been, last she heard there'd been a revolution of sorts – peasants storming the palace and everything. Maybe they were living like the Terminal City mutates now. Anyway it wasn't her problem, even if she was technically now Matriax of Oblivion. After picking at her food for a few more minutes, she pushed it aside and got up to leave only to bump into the massive Mole.

"Oh, its you," she said, remembering the scaly brute.

Mole felt his already short temper getting shorter at Destrii's casual dismissal of him. "Listen up, fish girl, just because Max thinks you can help us, don't think that puts you in a class above the rest of us. Here you're just another transie freak show."

Destrii raised an eyebrow, amused. Maybe this reptilian thug could help alleviate her boredom. "First of, Godzilla breath, I'm no a transgenic. Secondly I am better than you. I can trace my lineage back two hundred Earth years. Can you say the same, turtle head?"

"What're you on? We were artificially conceived-"

"Hel-lo," Destrii said, tapping Mole's forehead. "Are you paying attention or is your bonehead completely solid? There was nothing 'artificial' about my conception. Mommy and Daddy dearest did their royal responsibility and out I popped six months later."

Frustrated with Destrii's flippant tone and lack of respect, Mole struck out catching Destrii across the jaw. She staggered back but didn't fall. Looking up at Mole, Destrii smiled broadly revealing rows of gleaming white, extremely sharp, piranha-like teeth.

"Well if that's the way you want it, iguana-dummy."

"Come on," Mole snarled. "Let's see if you bleed."

"Just pucker up, buttercup."

Meanwhile in the lab, Max watched the Doctor as he maneuvered through the scientific mess. Carr and Shankar had gone to bed at the Doctor's insistence, saying they needed clear heads to tackle this problem. No amount of argument could convince Lydecker to sleep. How could he sleep knowing his kids were dying?

Learning Lydecker's part in creating the X-series soldiers had prompted a heated philosophical debate between the two scientists. The ex-colonel spouted the same speech he gave Max in that hotel after she found Tinga dead, prompting the Doctor to respond hotly.

"Making war very neat, very clean. Don't you understand that by sanitizing war you make it something _not_ to be avoided? People must see war for what it is: the senseless destruction, lives lost, the loved ones never coming home. You expose people to all of war's ugliness, the great the chance of people making sure it doesn't happen again."

Before Lydecker could respond, Mole crashed threw the wall followed by Destrii. Mole's superhuman strength was no match for Destrii's fluid, graceful movements. A lifetime in the arena made her more than a match for any mutant super-soldier. She could have finished off Mole any time she wanted to – but she was having just too much fun!

"Destrii!" The Doctor cried

"Mole!" Max yelled.

"Not in here, you fools," Lydecker screamed, trying to save the samples from obliteration.

However, no one moved to try and break it up. The Doctor and Lydecker were physically no match for the enhanced gladiators. Max could probably have stopped the fight, but she had another life to consider. It was Kroton who took the initiative.

The Cyberman with a soul marched up to the grappling pair, grabbed them by the scruff of their necks and lifted them off the ground and held them at arms length of each other. They looked like a pair of struggling preschoolers separated by a disapproving teacher. Their feet dangled off the ground as they continued to try and swipe and kick at each other, never coming close, until Kroton bellowed, "ENOUGH!"

"Destrii," the Doctor scolded. "I should've known than to expect better of you by now."

Max smacked Mole upside his head. "What the Hell did you think you were doing?"

"He/She started it," they said simultaneously.

"QUIET!" The Doctor snapped. After exchanging a look with Max he continued, "We don't care who started it. The two of you can stay right where you are until you learn how to be civil."

"Uh Doctor," Kroton said. "You don't expect me to hold them here all day, do you?"

"Why not? Its not like you get tired."

"I do have plans this evening."

This got Destrii's undivided attention. "You don't have a … date, do you?"

When Kroton didn't answer right away, Destrii broke out into a wide grin. "Why you smooth talking hunk of steel-"

"Francie offered to show me around Joshua's studio later. That's all."

Kroton caught sight of some disused metal girders in the next room. With Destrii and Mole in each hand, he carried them to the other room. After dropping Destrii he wrapped a steel girder around Mole, pinning his arms to his side, and hung him on the wall.

"Way to go Kroton," Destrii praised just before Kroton wrapped a girder around her as well, and hanged her on the opposite wall. "Hey," she protested. "Aw c'mon Kroton, let me down. C'mon this isn't funny. Kroton. Kroton!"

She continued to protest as Kroton walked away, brushing his hands together.

Scarper zipped through the sewers of Seattle as he homed in on Izzy's brain patterns. Along the way he came across an unusual energy signature. It didn't conform to any local specifications and should be investigated. However, his primary mission was to collect Izzy. So instead he sent a signal and a copy of his scan to the Junior CyberLeader and continued his mission.

ORIGINAL CINDY'S APARTMENT 

Izzy stretched leisurely on the lumpy bed smiling dreamily. She crawled out from under the tangled sheets and collected the remainder of her clothes. She found Cindy in the kitchen holding a knife looking around tentatively.

"Breakfast get away from you?"

Original Cindy shot her a withering look but smiled. The accent was just too damn sexy. "Nah, just an unwanted house guest thinking he's gonna move in."

Sitting down at the kitchen counter, Izzy said, "Old boyfriend who can't take a hint?"

"Ain't no man never got freaky with Original Cindy," she said indignantly. "Original Cindy is, and always has been, one hundred per cent behind the all girls team."

"In more ways than one," Izzy said saucily, leaning across the counter to kiss Cindy.

Cindy cupped Izzy's face letting the kiss linger. It had been a long time since she'd been involved with anyone seriously. Last night Izzy confessed she'd only be staying as long as the Doctor found something to amuse himself, so they both decided to take advantage of the time.

When they eventually broke apart, Original Cindy said, "The only rat Original Cindy is dealing with this mourning is the four-legged kind."

"A rat," Izzy stiffened.

_Get a grip Sinclair,_ she told herself. _You've tackled, murderous mutants, evil aliens, berserker robots and megalomania cal immortals. A flea-infested rodent shouldn't be a problem._

There was a rustling sound and a familiar silver bug scuttled up to Izzy's feet. "Scarper," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Scarper chittered urgently and produced a small piece of paper. After introducing Cindy to Scarper, she read the message. "Typical, absolutely bloody typical!"

Original Cindy caught sight of the contents of the message. "Hold up surgah, Original Cindy knows the quickest way to Terminal City and the best way to get inside with out getting noticed. You can borrow Max's bike."

"Thanks Cindy," Izzy said putting Scarper in her pocket.

JOSHUA'S STUDIO 

Kroton gazed at the combination of colours and oils on the stretched canvass as Joshua tried to explain what each of them meant.

Cybermen had no concept of beauty. It was as alien to them as emotions. All things must have practical purpose; if it didn't then it was useless and irrelevant. But then Kroton thought of the fluid almost organic skyscrapers of the City of Telos, the elegant spires stretching towards the sky as if trying to escape. There was a – sort of – beauty in their architecture, a small part of their subconscious struggling to remind them of who'd they once been.

Suddenly he received Scarper's message and a copy of his scan. It clearly showed the energy was not native to this planet and demanded further investigating.

"I must go," he announced.

"Why," Francie asked and Kroton explained.

"I go too," Joshua said. "Joshua knows tunnels. Get there quick, back faster."

"Me too," Francie said.

Kroton remembered and old Earth saying: safety in numbers. It would benefit if he could make this enquiry with witnesses before reporting his findings to the Doctor.

In the sewers they made there way effortlessly to the source of the unusual energy readings. The readings were much stronger than Kroton anticipated. It wasn't being artificially generated either. The power was building dangerously high.

"Francie, Joshua get back," Kroton cried just before the tunnel was flooded with thousands of volts of electricity.

Being made of metal, Kroton was practically a living conductor, absorbing most of the electricity, but he could hear Joshua and Francie screaming in pain. When the energy finally faded Francie and Joshua collapsed while Kroton stood rigidly at attention, fizzling with the remnants of raw energy.

"Not-not-not-not agai-a-a-ain-n-n-nnnnnnnnn, glurk."

He toppled backwards with a clang.

A formless shape slithered out of the darkness and hovered around the three intruders. Two it dismissed as local mutates, but it was the silver giant that attracted its undivided attention. A shrill, guttural voice hissed, "Cyberman."

Outside Terminal City, Original Cindy and Izzy could see police and soldiers crawling all over the hidden entrance to Terminal City.

"Well," Izzy said. "Any other ideas?"

"Don't worry sweetness," Original Cindy said. "Original Cindy got lots of mad schemes. You wanted to get into Terminal City and Original Cindy will get you there. C'mon I got and idea."

Energy levels optimum

Anomalous programming detected. Purging …

Rebooting primary objectives

Designation: Kroton

Function: Leader, Junior Grade

Mission: Proliferate and Survive

We will survive

We Will Survive

WE WILL SURVIVE

WE-WILL-SUR-VIVE!

To Be Coninued ...


	3. CATALYSTS

**THE**

**PLAGUE**

**OF**

**TERMINAL **

**CITY**

By

X5R-731

_**Disclaimer: **Cameron and company owns Dark Angel, while Doctor Who is the property of the BBC. Please, please, please don't sue me._

**CATALYSTS**

Sergeants Connor and Gibbons were on duty when the ambulance pulled up to the main entrance of Terminal City. A handsome paramedic leaned out of the window when Connor approached the ambulance.

"Afternoon officer."

"What'd you got?"

"Couple more sick transies. Collapsed outside Jam Pony of all places."

Connor didn't care much for transgenics. They were arrogant, irresponsible and violent (and the fact that his daughter had been dating an X7 didn't help). But the law was the law and it was his job to make sure it was properly enforced. While some of his colleagues may choose to be a law unto themselves or ignore it completely, he was a servant of the public trust and had sworn an oath to protect the citizens of Seattle. And unfortunately that included the transgenics. He opened the roadblock and waved the ambulance through.

LAB

When Max returned to the lab, she found the Doctor leaning back on his stole, arms folded, glaring accusingly at the biological data. It was like he was demanding it give him the answers he was looking for.

Lydecker had passed out after working almost thirty hours straight and Max had supervised Lane and Keema carrying him back to his cell before they returned to their room. Max didn't like spending too much time with Lane and Keema. It wasn't any fault of theirs, they were Zack and Brin's clone twins and seeing them only brought up painful memories of her lost siblings. The fact that they were and item and shacked up together, did nothing to ease her psyche.

"How's it coming," she asked.

"I'm finished," he replied.

"What!"

"I discovered the antidote to this appalling disease. Well technically, your doctors were on the right track, I just filled in the blanks. It will even go so far as to reverse the early effects of progenia."

"I sense a 'but' coming."

"There's more to this virus than meets the eye, a hidden code buried beneath the obvious contagion. I'm positive this virus was designed to do a great deal more than destroy genetically engineered cells."

Before Max could ask what he meant she received a call that an ambulance had arrived with more plague victims. She left the Doctor to his work as she went to oversee the new arrivals. What greeted wasn't what she expected.

"Rafer!"

"Hey Max." the paramedic greeted warmly as he jumped out of his ambulance.

Initially Rafer had been just another heat induced one night stand, an embarrassing mistake best forgotten. He'd turned out to be a cut above the usual loser, actually apologizing afterward thinking what had happened was his fault. When transgenics became chic, he was the only heat-induced mistake who hadn't sold his encounter to the tabloid rags, saying what a tigress she was in the sack. It had quite possibly been the most humiliating year of her life. The intimate details of her sex life out in the open for everyone (especially Logan) to read. She'd pretty much been a hermit for weeks when the first stories began to circulate. The fact that Rafer had not told about their night together, earned him a place of respect in her affections. He'd told her his love life was no one's business (and he didn't want to ruin things with his new girlfriend).

"So what you got for me?"

Rafer simply smiled and banged on the ambulance door.

"Hey boo," Original Cindy said, jumping out of the emergency vehicle, followed by another girl.

The two friends embraced, grateful to see each other again. Max had missed Cindy so much, many a time she'd ached for her best friend's sage, down to earth advice, but crackdowns and the disease had made any visits impossible.

When they eventually broke apart Original Cindy said, "Damn girl, I can barely get my arms around you. When's he due?"

"Months to go yet," she grinned. " 'He' huh? You think its gonna be another boy?"

"Original Cindy knows these things. You got another Logan, jr. simmering in your oven."

"Ever thought about having one of your own?"

Original Cindy made a face. "Only one way Original Cindy knows how to make a baby and no way Original Cindy gonna do that."

Max's grin got wider. God, it was good to have Cindy back. "So, as much as I'd love to think you've gone to all this trouble to just see me and discuss maternity, what brings you here?"

"My new lickety-boo needed to get in touch with some friends of hers who just moved to TC," Original Cindy said indicating the other girl.

"You must be Izzy," Max stated.

"Is the Doctor alright," she asked, exposing her North English accent.

"He's fine, I'll take you to him. Thanks again Rafer."

"No problem Max."

"By the way, how's what's her name?"

"Pregnant," he beamed. "And believe it or not, I'm the father!"

Max's hand instinctively went to her own slightly protruding abdomen. "Congratulations. I wish the two of you the best."

"Thanks Max," Rafer said as he climbed back into his ambulance. "See you around."

As the girls made their way to the lab, Izzy thought she saw Kroton lurking in the corners. Before she could call out, he disappeared.

"Well," Destrii said, blowing out a bored breath. "I don't know about you, croc-o-dork, but I don't fancy hanging around all day looking at your ugly face."

"It hasn't exactly been a stag flick from my end!" Mole snarled.

"Oh puh-leez," Destrii said, rolling her eyes. "I'm the best looking female you've laid eyes on since you hatched from whatever rotten egg your pitiful excuse for a matriarch farted you out."

As she spoke, Destrii shifted and twisted inside her bonds, stretching and constricting her muscles until she slipped effortlessly out of the steel girder.

"How'd you do that?"

"Unlike you, Gorn guts, I'm not made up of overly dense bone and muscle. All this," she said running her hands suggestively down her torso. "Is all cartilage, baby, tough but flexible. Later gator."

Destrii strutted out giving Mole a swat on his ass on her way out.

"I'll kill her," Mole seethed, doubling his efforts to break free. "I'll kill her!"

EYES ONLY TERMINAL CITY OUTPOST

Logan stared at his computer screen, desperately searching for the source of this disease. The only organizations Logan knew about that had that kind of know how and resources were Manticore, Synthodyne and maybe the Conclave. But they were all no longer a threat. Even Sebastian didn't know who could've developed such a designer virus. Logan's concentration was only distracted when a metal hand grasped his shoulder. He looked up into the empty black eyes of a true Cyberman.

"Kroton?"

"You belong to us. You will be like us."

LABORATORY

The Doctor was still staring at the biological sample when Max, Izzy and Original Cindy entered. He looked up briefly before turning back to the dish.

"Hello Izzy," he mumbled distractedly. "Whose your new friend?"

Izzy made quick introductions then asked, "What have you gotten us involved with this time?"

A high pitched electronic wail burst from Izzy's coat pocket. Scarper jumped out of Izzy's pocket, spun around wildly on the floor, and then dashed madly out the door.

"Now where's he off to," the Doctor wondered. The problem with the virus solved, the Doctor decided to investigate the Cybermat's odd behaviour.

The Doctor, Izzy, Max and Original Cindy followed Scarper to Logan's Terminal City base. Along the way they met up with a groggy and sore Joshua and Francie. They told Max what had happened in the sewers as the followed Scarper.

Inside they found Kroton sitting in Logan's chair, physically interphasing with his computer. Wires extended from his wrists directly into the hard drive. Kroton didn't acknowledge their presence, staring intently at the computer screen. Logan, meanwhile, was lying face down on the floor.

"Logan!" Max cried, rushing up to her fallen paramour.

The Doctor approaching Kroton slowly to see what he was doing. Kroton didn't react when the Doctor looked over his shoulder at the monitor. He could see that Kroton had tapped into Eyes Only's satellite hook up and was beaming a signal out into space.

"Kroton," the Doctor asked calmly. "What are you doing?"

Kroton finally turned to look at the Doctor. When he spoke, it was in a deep flat monotone – the voice of a Cyberman. "Doc-tor. You are the Doctor." Kroton stood disentangling himself from the electronic equipment. "You are an enemy of the Cyber-race. You shall be neutralized." He grabbed the Doctor by the shoulder in a vice-like grip. "You will give us the secret of time travel. After we harvest this world, we will claim the system. We will survive."

"Oh no." the Doctor had often worried about Kroton's Cyber conditioning reasserting itself – and now it had.

"Kroton," Izzy said. "What are you doing?"

He regarded her coldly. "Immature human female. Hold in cryo-suspension until suitable for conversion."

"Take your filthy gloves off her," Original Cindy growled.

Kroton backhanded Original Cindy, sending her flying across the room. "All resistance will be crushed."

Max launched herself at the Junior Cyber Leader with cold fury, heedless of her own safety (and her pulse one). This _thing_ had brutalized the two people who meant the most to her and threatened her family. She delivered a stunning flying kick to his chest causing him to stagger back a pace and a half, releasing the Doctor and Izzy. Forgetting she was fighting a machine creature, she delivered a series of blows to his head and abdomen, succeeding in only hurting her hands. Kroton grabbed her wrists and lifted her off the ground.

Scanning her, he reported, "Mature human female. Evidence of genetic manipulation, but more than suitable for conversion. Secondary heartbeat indicates extra life form. The fetus will be removed and held for further study."

"Like Hell," Max screamed. She kicked upwards with both feet catching him on the chin. Kroton staggered, releasing one wrist but holding firmly to the other.

A familiar bellowing roar filled the air just before a shaggy form collided into Kroton. Max felt the steel grip on her wrist disappeared as the two behemoths grappled. Joshua, a.k.a. Dog Boy, the first transgenic, a beastly appearance hid an artistic soul. But his gentle nature could be overcome with an uncontrollable animal rage when his loved ones were threatened. While Kroton, the by-product of alien technology, ruthlessly logical and equally ruthless when set to a task. Both were creatures of immense power and strength, but when it came down to it, Joshua was still flesh and blood and it was only a matter of time until Kroton's hydraulic muscles overpowered the giant.

The Doctor, meanwhile, had made his way back to Logan's computer. The signal Kroton had sent was heading for the nearest Cyberman outpost. He had to stop it, the Cybermen weren't scheduled to return to this Solar System for another forty-five years. In the time he had left, the Doctor surmised there was no time for fancy computer skills, so instead he grabbed the modem's cord and yanked it out of the hard drive. A shower of sparks and a small explosion later, the signal ceased. However, the Doctor was certain Mr. Cale would not be pleased about what had happened to his equipment.

Joshua continued to pummel Kroton with blows. His fists were bruised and bleeding and he was getting tired but he continued to attack. The silver man had to be stopped, just like Kelpy had had to be stopped … just like Isaac …

Kroton punched Joshua in the chest breaking several ribs. Staggering, Joshua gasped for breath. Everyone watched in disbelief as Kroton picked Joshua up and brought him down across his knee. The room filled with a very loud crack as the Dog Man's spine broke in half. Joshua howled in agony as he rolled onto the floor. Kroton grabbed a handful of Joshua's hair and yanked him to his knees.

"Humanoid canine male," Kroton droned. "Unsuitable for conversion. Eradicate."

"Kroton, no," Izzy yelled.

"Kroton!" the Doctor shouted.

"No," Max screamed. "Joshua!"

"Max," the gentle giant said in a soft, scared voice just before Kroton gave his head a violent twist. There was a small snap and the Cyberman let the lifeless body drop with a thud.

Francie leapt across the room and dropkicked Kroton in the head. When he refused to go down, she went airborne, hitting him from every angle, keeping him disorientated but couldn't take him down. Eventually as she zipped past him, he caught her by her ankle and flung her into a wall. He then grabbed her by her throat and lifted her off the ground.

"Amphibious humanoid female. Unsuitable for conversion. Eradicate."

He drew back a silver fist and prepared to slam it through her face into the wall.

"Damn lights," Julia groused when they flickered again as Robert led her fellow conspirators into their secondary headquarters.

"That's what you get," Robert said. "When you subsidize."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Julia Tarrison gave her loyal aide a withering look before addressing her fellow conspirators – Professor George Ferrara and Reverend Obadiah Torrance. Professor Ferrara was one of the scientists who'd worked on the Manticore Project before its destruction. This base doubled as his research facility.

"Gentleman," she said. "I'll try to make this brief, my daughter's recital is in under an hour. So far everything is going according to plan. Professor."

"The transgenics are proving more resilient than we thought, but that's to be expected. I see no reason why we can't move to the next stage."

"Finally," Torrance grumbled. "My followers have been waiting to cleans this city for years."

"Yes," Robert said dryly. "Who knew genocide could take so long."

Julia suppressed a smile as Torrance simmered. It was times like these she remembered why she kept Robert around. He was a great tension breaker and had a habit of saying things that were on her mind. She didn't particularly care for Reverend Torrance. She considered him a glory-seeking, self-righteous hypocrite. He was a fundamentalist bigot who hated the transgenics simply because they didn't fit into his tiny view of the universe. Her dislike for the transgenics stemmed from that she understood the threat they represented to public safety. Anyway, her husband was waiting for her, so it was time to wrap this up.

Kroton stood there ready to drive his fist through Francie for about sixty-seven seconds. The Doctor cautiously stepped up to Kroton and waved his hand in front of his blank eyes. Eventually Francie managed to wriggle out of Kroton's grasp, but Kroton held his pose.

"What happened," Izzy asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "I think he's suffered some kind of stroke. His true nature and the Cyber conditioning colliding when forced beyond breaking point." He glanced at Francie. "He must think very much of you."

Francie's throat bulged, emitting a croaking sound. "Excuse me."

Logan came to, to find Max sobbing with Joshua's head on her lap. It was obvious that he was dead. "Max," he said gently. "I'm so sorry."

He wrapped his arms around, burying her face in his chest. She hugged him tightly sobbing and shaking uncontrollably with Joshua's head resting on her lap. Another brother dead. But she was still alive. How many of her family was she going to watch die?

Everyone was so caught up in the after affects of the titanic brawl, no one noticed that Kroton began to move. Lowering his arms, he turned around and gazed down at Joshua's broken body. Kneeling, he gently lifted Joshua up and carried him outside. Curious, the Doctor and company followed, the distraught Max partially supported by Logan. As Kroton carried Joshua's lifeless corpse through the streets of Terminal City the procession grew to encompass most of its citizens, all of them in shocked disbelief. Kroton brought Joshua to his quarters, placed him in his bed and tucked him in, as if trying to make him comfortable. Kroton stepped back and gazed down curious at Joshua – before collapsing onto the floor, his head propped up against the wall.

Max, Logan, Original Cindy and Francie gathered around the bed while the Doctor and Izzy knelt by Kroton. The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and began to remove the bonds on Kroton's faceplate.

"What're you doing," Izzy asked.

"I want to see how badly his neural pathways have been corrupted. And the only way I can determine that is to take a look at them."

When the Doctor removed Kroton's faceplate, Izzy almost threw up at what she saw. A human skull enmeshed in a myriad amalgamation of wires and techno-organic compounds pumping nutrients to parts that still needed it.

"This is incredible. Parts of his neural pathways have been rewired manually and quite sloppily too. No wonder his processors almost burnt out. But who did this, who'd have the rudimentary knowledge to rewire a Cyberman's brain?"

Scarper wriggled out of Izzy's pocket and scuttled up to Kroton's hand. He nudged it, like a cat trying to coax a pet but got no response.

"Hey, what's going on?" Destrii said pushing her way through the crowd outside Joshua's quarters, followed by Mole. "What's all the hullabaloo? Who died?" – seeing Joshua she added – "Oh."

Addressing the Doctor and Izzy, she asked, "What happened?"

"Kroton went berserk," Francie said dully. "Killed Joshua. Shockers do that to you. It happened to Isaac … and Kelpy."

"What was that my dear," the Doctor said.

Francie told him what happened in the sewers.

"Could you take me there?"

"What are you thinking," Max demanded.

"I'm thinking of finding what turned my friend here into a weapon responsible for this poor man's death."

Max softened a fraction at the Doctor referring to Joshua as a man. "What did you have in mind?"

"I want to investigate the sight of Kroton's mystery energy signal."

"I'm coming with you."

"I don't think-"

"Don't bother," Logan said. "If she wants to do something she will, especially where threats to her family are considered."

"You gotta be kidding," Mole said. "You're going to trust him!"

"You want to find out who killed Joshua?"

"We know who's responsible. I say we turn Robbie the Robot into scrap iron."

"Back off, scaly buns," Destrii snarled. "Don't make me throw you threw another wall."

"Just for that," the Doctor said. "The two of you are coming with us."

"Huh?" Max said quizzically.

"Would you rather leave them alone, unsupervised, to run around Terminal City?"

"Right," Max conceded. "Francie lead the way."

"I'll be right with you." The Doctor took Izzy aside and handed her a small velvet pouch.

"What's this?"

"A failsafe. In case what wakes up isn't the Kroton we all know and love."

She looked at the contents of the bag and looked at the Doctor in horror. "Doctor, no."

"Yes."

"We can't."

"After what happened here, we have no choice. I trust you to do what's necessary should the situation call for it."

Izzy lowered her eyes. "Alright."

The Doctor squeezed her shoulder sympathetically, then walked off.

Izzy poured some of the pouches glittering contents onto her hand. Gold dust – the perfect non-corrodible metal. Toss a handful of this into a Cyberman's chest unit and it would suffocate. Izzy looked back at Kroton. He looked like a broken toy, lying there all loose and twisted, the lights on his head and chest pack were out. Would she have the strength to do what was necessary if what woke up was not her friend?

Before joining the others, the Doctors had a quick word with Logan, handing him a piece of paper. "Mr. Cale, despite the unfortunate destruction of your equipment, I believe you are still capable of getting a message out. I'd like you to send this to the nearest FHD offices. Inform them this is a Code 7 and sign it J. Smith."

"What's this for?"

"This is just in case anything – odd should happen."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, I just like to be thorough."

They stopped off at one of the watchtowers where Max told Krit he would be in charge until she got back.

"You sure you want to leave now," Krit asked indicating the ugly looking crowd gathering outside Terminal City's perimeter.

Max sighed. It never ends. "Keep an eye on them and contact me if they make any sudden moves. Hold down the fort." Max hugged her brother and joined the others.

With Francie leading the way, Max, the Doctor, Destrii and Mole trudged through the sewers. When they reached the junction where Kroton had first traced the source of the alien energy signature, Francie asked, "Can I got back? Don't like it here. Makes my skin tingle."

"Yes of course," the Doctor said gently. "You've done more than enough. Thank you my dear."

Francie hopped away gratefully.

The Doctor pulled out a small hand held tracer from one of his many bottomless pockets and began sweeping the tunnel.

"What is that thing," Mole demanded.

"Its an electronic bloodhound," the Doctor replied before setting off after the spoor trail.

The electro-magnetic slime could be found on the walls and in the sewage, clearly leading somewhere. It looked vaguely familiar but one of the drawbacks of living nine-hundred and seventy-six years is that the details tended to get muddled. They followed the trail to a ladder and one by one they each climbed up.

They found themselves in a featureless office building and began to explore. Most of the rooms seemed empty until one door revealed several heavily armed guards in black and gold fatigues.

"Oh dear," the Doctor said. "How terribly embarrassing. So sorry."

Trying to shut the door, the guards kicked it down and swarmed around the intruders.

"Well," Mole groused. "Anybody got any ideas?"

the Doctor threw up his hands. "We surrender."

TERMINAL CITY

Sgt. Jack Connor looked at the oncoming mob, advancing menacingly, urged on by some hellfire preacher. Ashamedly, a part of Jack wanted to let them pass, let them run amuck through the toxic hole that was Terminal City. But that wasn't his decision to make, despite his colleagues, he didn't have the luxury of deciding which laws he could or could not enforce. To Serve & Protect – that's what it said on the badge and words he tried to live by.

He remembered the horror of mob rule following the pulse: bodies hanging from telephone polls, looting, fires, senseless destruction. Jack had lost a partner, a brother and his parents. When the chaos finally died down he swore he would not let it happen again.

Krit observed the two cops face down the mob from behind the fence. They won't last long, Krit thought. Glancing down at his hands he saw his skin discoloration and rash had spread. He hadn't been inoculated yet, the medics had been treating the more serious cases first. They were recuperating steadily but were in no shape for a battle.

Why had Max decided to disappear now? He hasn't cut out for command. Sure he was a fair deputy and better that average bodyguard, but he didn't have the originality or force of personality to lead. Fortunately battle situations were something he could handle.

"Zero," he called down to one of the sentries. Get anyone who can still fight to the front gate. Looks like what nobody wanted to happen is happening,"

Izzy continued her vigil over Kroton. Scarper had crawled into the Cyberman's mighty palm and chittered pathetically, as if begging for some attention from his master. Izzy held his other hand while at the same time fingering the gold dust in her pocket. She remembered reading somewhere that coma patients could still sense the world around them. She didn't know if this apply to Kroton's mostly mechanical body, but after everything they'd been through she'd like to think there was some sort of bond between then on a metaphysical level at least.

"How is he," Francie asked.

Izzy tried not to recoil at Francie's offensive smell. "No change."

"Trouble," Original Cindy announced.

Izzy could hear the sounds of fighting. Outside the X5's were holding their own against the invaders, but just barely. Normally an X5 was worth five ordinaries but many were either recuperating or still sick. The beast men on the other hand were fresh, healthy and angry, and had been itching for a chance to take it out on some one for a long time. Izzy, Original Cindy and Francie were witness to a full blown riot.

"Die freak," a rioter screamed charging Francie.

Francie jumped up and kicked him in the chest. Somersaulting in mid-air she kicked another attacker coming up behind her in the head. She locked her ankles around a third assailant's head and hurtled him through the air. During all this her feet never touched the ground.

While Original Cindy grappled with one female fanatic, Izzy and her opponent tumbled back into Joshua's room. They wrestled around the studio knocking over eisles and paints. He managed to get on top of her with his hands wrapped around her throat.

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The Doctor and Max were separated from Destrii and Mole and brought before the conspirators.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here," Max said sarcastically.

While Max addressed the Senator, the Doctor observed her aide. There was something decidedly off about the anemic looking young man.

Meanwhile, Professor Ferrara stare avariciously at Max's abdomen. "I've always wanted to get me hands on a developing fetus." The ethically challenged scientist said as he placed his hand on her swollen belly.

White hot anger flared through her being faster than a prairie bushfire in summer. How _dare_ he touch her – especially there. Nobody placed their hands on her, the primal animal side of her mind raged. Only her mate had the right. Certainly not this bloodless piece of offal. Max grabbed Ferrara's hands and with one violent twist broke them in several different places. Ferrara screamed and dropped to his knees. Looking in horror at his mangled hands

The two guards rushed forward to subdue the X5. one of them swung his shock stick at her midsection. the Doctor put himself between her and the possibly lethal baton, absorbing most of the punishment.

"Enough," Senator Tarrison ordered.

"Oh good," the Doctor said massaging his ribs. "You have an aversion to scenes of violence. So do I. Especially when I'm on the receiving end."

"She'd responsible for the disease killing my people," Max said, understandably outraged.

"Yes, well, plotting and ordering the mass murder of an entire species is one thing. But actually doing it is another matter entirely."

"The transgenics are not a race," Tarrison argued defensively. "They were grown in a lab for one purpose – kill. I'm just doing my best to make this world safer for my children."

"By murdering ours!" Max countered.

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Suddenly Izzy's garrotter collapsed. After she pushed him off her she saw he was covered with the same lesions and skin discoloration the infected transgenics had. Getting up, she rushed outside to see everyone – ordinaries, trangenics, nomalies – all collapsing from the disease. Izzy's head suddenly began to spin and she looked down to see blotches appearing on her hands.

Back inside Joshua's studio, the lights slowly came on on Kroton's chest and head.

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"Now, now, now," the Doctor shushed. "The good senator is just scared. People do terrible things when there scared. I mean look how fast you've organized and established yourselves. In a few generations you could be the dominant life form on this planet. And we all know what power does to people. Not that there's really any difference between transgenics and ordinary humans, you're still both a very paranoid and primitive people."

Before Max and Tarrison could comment on that remark there was a loud banging on the door.

"Let me in! Let me in, damn you! Out of my way!" Torrance burst in frantically.

"Torrance, what's the meaning of this?"

"Dammit woman haven't you been paying attention to what's happening out there?"

He turned on the television on her wall.

" – casualty reports are still coming in but sources confirm that the 'Transgenic Plague' has begun infecting ordinary humans. The plague seems to be airborne spreading exponentially-" images of people with evidence of the infection littering the streets of Seattle.

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Logan had been in the middle of the chaos helping the residents of Terminal City defend their home when everyone started succumbing to the virus. This must be what the Doctor meant about something 'out of the ordinary' happening. He raced back to Max's Terminal City room. He kept a spare hook up there for emergencies. He suddenly felt dizzy, his legs began to feel like jelly. Looking down he could see the rash stating to form on his skin, but he pushed on. Too many lives were at stake.

In Max's digs he yanked the laptop out of the desk and booted up. He quickly typed up the message the Doctor had given him, but before he could hit SEND, his body went numb. The ground rushed up to meet him. He didn't know how long he lay there but it was too long. Protesting muscles moved with agonizing slowness as he pulled himself up and reached for the SEND button. It looked impossibly far away, but tried to press it.

A familiar cold hand touched his shoulder. Logan turned to once again find himself looking into the featureless face of the Junior Cyber Leader.

"Survive," Kroton slurred. "Must sur-vive."

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"Is this what you want," the Doctor demanded. "A dead world?"

Tarrison stared in disbelief at the scenes of disease and death. "Professor-"

"I don't know what's happening," Ferrara said panicking. "The virus wasn't designed to attack non-engineered DNA."

"Never mind that, can we stop it?"

The sound of the door shutting caused everyone to look up and see Robert Sanford locking the door.

"Robert," Julia demanded. "What're you doing?"

The aide didn't answer. He just stood there stonily.

"Bob, get out of the way."

Sanford didn't budge.

"Damn it Bob, we don't have time for this."

Sanford still didn't move.

They really didn't have time to deduce what had caused Sanford's unusual behaviour, so Tarrison ordered the two security men to remove him. When they were within arms reach, Sanford's arms morphed into tendrils and whipped out towards the guards. There was a crackle of energy, the guards screamed and dropped to the floor – dead. 'Robert Sanford' was now glowing bright green and his sallow complexion had become downright cadaverous – rotting flesh hanging off his cheeks.

"We are the Rutan Host. Your world is ended."

Next Episode: HOLOCAUST


	4. HOLOCAUST

**THE**

**PLAGUE**

**OF**

**TERMINAL **

**CITY**

By

X5R-731

_**Disclaimer: **Cameron and company owns Dark Angel, while Doctor Who is the property of the BBC. Please, please, please don't sue me._

HOLOCAUST 

It was getting harder and harder for Destrii to breathe. Her once gorgeous, smooth blue skin was turning orange and becoming rough and cracked. The humans had put her in some kind of baking chamber. It wasn't warm enough to harm humans – make them sweat; dehydrate them at worst but nothing more. However, for a being like Destrii who spent thirty per cent of her life in water, it was the equivalent of an incinerator.

Mole was in a similar situation only he'd been locked in a freezer. Being cold-blooded he could feel his body shutting down, going into a type of forced hibernation. Only he doubted it was a hibernation he would wake up from. He tried to keep his blood circulating, stay upright, continue moving but it was futile. His reptilian DNA was the dominant part. He collapsed and felt blackness overtake him.

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"So," the Doctor said. "The petty little war between the Rutans and the Sontarans has swung back towards this harmless little backwater galaxy."

The green glowing cadaver looked at the Doctor in surprise. "You know us?"

"I've had the misfortune of encountering various facets of your Host. Although I must confess I seem to spend more time in the company of those potato-headed cretins you've been pointlessly fighting with for the last couple of eons."

"Not for much longer."

"I seem to have heard that before - from both sides. I presume you are responsible for this disease."

"Yes, we are."

"Not true," Ferrara objected. "I conceived and engineered the virus myself. In my own lab!"

"We supplied the necessary information and adjusted your research to reach the desired results."

"My calculations-"

"Were negligible. You're knowledge of viral engineering is haphazard at best. Your ego would simply not allow you to accept that."

"As much as I enjoy watching a mad scientist's ego being deflated, what is the Host's interest in this world? The war isn't scheduled to swing back this way for another six decades. And why the designer virus – why just target the transgenics?"

"The plan was to sterilize the planet with a lethal pathogen. However we did not foresee the presence of primitive eugenic experiments. We had to observe the effects on the mutates before releasing it upon the general populace. There was a minute chance the virus would not effect the genetically engineered anthropoids. While the virus does not act as quickly, the overall results are acceptable."

"What about the Beastials," the Doctor asked. "Your disease barely touches them."

"The animates are a negligible threat. They will be eliminated by conventional means."

"But why," Senator Tarrison demanded, close to hysterics. "What for? Why are you doing this?"

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Somewhere, far away, Destrii thought she could hear gunfire – or she would have if she wasn't trying to force air through her sand dry throat. It wasn't until the door of her cell was ripped off its hinged, that she was aware of the world again. She looked up to see a familiar silver giant framed in the doorway.

"Kroton," she croaked.

He reached down and dragged her into the hall. He yanked the sprinkler pipes out of the ceiling, flooding the hallway and drenching Destrii. Destrii gasped in shocked surprise as the life-giving element rehydrated and rejuvenated her. Her wrinkled, orange skin regained its original suppleness and healthy blue covering. She crawled to her feet gulping down water as it continued to pour from the ceiling.

While the water healed her, Kroton punched a hole in Mole's cell door and pulled it down. He went inside and dragged the shivering, frost covered homo reptilicus out. Kroton leaned over the almost comatose Mole, his headlight glowing softly. The ice melted off his scales and his shaking subsided.

"Kroton-"

"He will recover."

"Yeah, great," she said dismissively. "How about you? Are you-"

"I am myself again."

"Well bully for you," Mole sneered, getting stiffly to his feet. "Don't think that makes up for killing Joshua."

Kroton grabbed Destrii and Mole and spun them around behind him as the air filled with bullets. Kroton shielded them as the lethal lead pellets bounced off his hide. Destrii wriggled out of his grip and leapt at the armoured Chosen Children soldiers, dropkicking one in the chest. She swept the other ones legs out of from under him. When he tried to sit up Destrii punched him across the face, knocking him out. She stood up, brushing her hands.

"You can get up now."

Mole shook off Kroton's hand as they stood up. Heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. "Sounds like company's coming."

Kroton looked blankly ahead. "The Doctor is in danger."

Destrii rolled her eyes. "Big surprise."

"I must go," he said distractedly. Kroton turned and walked away.

After exchanging confused glances, Destrii said, "So scaly buns, you wanna see how many of these goons we can take out before we get tired?"

Mole smiled with manic glee. "Wish I had a cigar." He snatched up one of the guard's rifles and charged in the direction of the reinforcements.

"No fair using guns," Destrii whined.

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The commotion could be heard in the Senator's office.

"Sounds like trouble," Max said.

"It is of no consequence," the Rutan with Robert Sanford's face stated.

"Robert," Julia said pleadingly.

"Oh I imagine Mr. Sanford was replaced some time ago, wasn't he?" the Doctor enquired.

"The being known as 'Robert Sanford' was substituted five-hundred and thirty-six solar cycles ago."

"Following death by electrocution and a quick exploratory surgery."

"It is procedure."

Tarrison looked beseechingly at her old friend. "But-"

"Oh shut up you stupid woman," Torrance screamed. "Can't you see its one of them! One of those things, those unholy abominations bred in that Satan's crucible called Manticore. You've had one among us the whole time and you didn't know!" He approached 'Robert' full of righteous fury and the Wrath of God. "Demon, devil! The power of Christ compels you!"

"Torrance," the Doctor cried. "Whatever you do don't touch him."

Torrance either couldn't or wouldn't hear him. "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, I banish you back to the pit from whence you came!"

Torrance slapped the palm of his hand on 'Robert's' forehead. The glowing cadaver remained motionless as several thousand volts of electricity passed from it into this presumptive biped. The minister screamed as every nerve ending in his body burned. He didn't stop screaming until his charred skeleton collapsed to the floor.

"That was unnecessary," the Doctor said angrily.

"We have endured these presumptuous primitive anthropoids, but that one in particular taxed our resolve more than most."

"Why does he keep referring to himself in the plural," Max asked. "Exactly how many are in there?'

"Just one. The Rutans have no sense of self-identity. They are a minor gestalt entity whose sole purpose is to protect and obey the Great Mother."

"How do you know the Great Mother," the Rutan demanded.

"I read a lot – and I travel. But I've never been to Ruta 3, a bit to chilly for humanoid life. Look, do we really need to keep up the pretense? I'm pretty sure everyone's grasped the fact you're not even remotely human."

"Very well."

'Robert' straightened and glowed so bright everyone but the Doctor had to shield his or her eyes. When the light dimmed they could make out a luminous green jellyfish-like creature hovering before them, its tentacles swaying lethally around it.

"There, doesn't that feel better? Now are you in an expository mood or should we guess why an expantionist empire at war is trying to wipe out a species of no threat to it light years from the battle lines."

"This world will be used to end the war."

"How?"

"When the virus has run it course a small contingent will establish itself to lure the Sontarans here. The contingent will be sacrificed to solidify the illusion of this planets importance. When the Sontaran rabble find nothing of value they will leave taking the virus with them."

"Where it will mutate again and spread throughout the Sontaran Empire, am I right?"

"Correct."

"You mean to tell me they're wiping up out just to create a tactical edge," Max ejaculated.

"That's about the size of it.

The office door was smashed open revealing and enraged Cyberman.

"Rutan," Kroton bellowed. "You did this to me! Turned me back into a monster – made me kill again. You will pay for that."

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As the last Chosen Children acolyte fell, Mole looked up at Destrii, surrounded by the bodies of her enemies. Her skin shone with perspiration, a manic smile splashed across her face with an almost orgasmic gleam in her eye. Mole was mesmerized as her bosom heaved with one deep breath after another. This was quite possibly the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. Throwing away his gun, he grabbed Destrii and kissed her brutally. Destrii returned the kiss with equal ferocity. They stumbled around the bodies of their enemies before crashing through a wall, completely oblivious to everything.

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Kroton lunged at the glowing green orb. The Rutan reacted by whipping out its tentacles and wrapping them around Kroton's arms. Legs and neck. It reminded the Doctor of an incident four lifetimes ago when him and Leela were sailing to Easter Island (he couldn't remember what happened to the TARDIS).

Somewhere in the South Pacific they witnessed a struggle between a sperm whale and a giant squid. The squid had its tentacles wrapped around that massive head pecking away with its beak desperately trying not to get eaten. Meanwhile the whale burst from the ocean and smashed back down trying to disorientate its prey long enough to get it in its huge maw. Two titans of the deep struggling to survive. It was the same here: Cyberman's brute strength against Rutan cunning. Kroton tore at the tendrils around him as lethal volts of electricity coursed through him.

"Not … this … time!" Kroton ground out.

He pulled at the tentacles until the glowing green blob was in front of him. A destructive beam shot from Kroton's forehead light, slicing through the gelatinous alien. The Rutan shrieked as it flew backwards, the heat boiling its innards. The stunned humans watched with horrified fascination as the luminescent jellyfish shriveled up and melted, leaving just a puddle of green goo on the floor. Kroton, meanwhile, staggered back into a wall and sank to the floor.

The Doctor approached him cautiously and said, "Kroton?"

"I am myself again Doctor." Kroton pulled himself to his feet and approached Max. "Max, I wish I could express my deep regret and sorrow over the death of Joshua-"

"Save it," Max said, raising a hand. "We got bigger problems right now."

Images of people dying from the disease filled the screens. The way it was spreading there was no way they could synthesize enough of the cure in time to get the contagion under control, cases were already being reported in Canada and Mexico. Suddenly she could hear a dull roar coming from overhead outside. The television screens showed that the sky over Seattle was full of helicopters all marked with a winged globe with the letters UNFHD labeled across it.

"What's that?"

"The cavalry," the Doctor said. "I hope."

The choppers swooped over the city dumping a clear liquid chemical.

"Excellent," the Doctor exclaimed, joyfully. "The chemical should neutralize the disease long enough for medical personnel to administer the anti-toxin. Mr. Cale must have been able to get out my message."

"Not exactly," Kroton put in. "He tried to but was overcame by the virus before he could finish sending the message. I finished his task."

"What?" Max started. The thought of Logan dying from the plague was too much to bear. After everything they'd been through, Logan couldn't die from another disease. "C'mon, we gotta get back."

Just then men in blue and black combat fatigues flooded into the senator's office, rifle's leveled.

"United Nations Foreign Hazard Detail. Everyone remain calm and this will all be over quickly." One of the soldiers announced. According to his nametag, he was identified as Pelago.

Upon seeing Kroton, the FHD immediately trained their weapons on the silver giant. The Doctor jumped in front of them, arms outstretched pleadingly. "No, no, he is a good Cyberman." At their disbelieving looks, the Doctor rummaged quickly through his pockets. "Yes, well, unbelievable as that sounds I have something that will convince you otherwise." After pulling out a slingshot, a pair of spoons and a ball of yarn, he handed Master Corporal Pelago a plastic ID card.

The corporal snapped to attention. "Sir."

"None of that now," the Doctor said, stuffing the card back in his breast pocket. "Doctor will do just fine. The young lady with child and the silver chap are with me. Now, the people you really want to talk to, or at least your superiors will, are the stunned civil servant and the fellow with the broken hand."

"Understood, sir. A way has been cleared for your departure."

"Friends of ours are being held somewhere," Max said. "We're not leaving without them."

Pelago put his hand to his ear, receiving instructions through a miniature radio no doubt. After exchanging some confused looks with his troops, he said, "We just got a report of a naked lizard man and a topless fish girl jumping out of a second floor window. Friends of yours?"

"Naked?" Kroton said.

"Topless?" Max queried.

"Right," the Doctor said quickly, pushing Max and Kroton forcibly out the door. "Time we were off. See you at Terminal City."

The next month and a half was a blur for the denizens of Terminal City. Seattle and the rest of the west coast became a UN protectorate zone under the direct authority of the FHD. Under the command of Colonel Martha Makepeace, the FHD worked with the transgenics and the local medical units to administer the cure and treat the sick. Washington was making a big stink about foreign troops occupying American soil. The United Nations replied coldly that the United States had deliberately allowed a possible pandemic to go unchecked and untreated, and when the virus spread outside U.S. borders it became a global issue, therefore it fell under the jurisdiction of the FHD. In true political style, the president and congress quickly began passing the buck until it landed solely on Senator Julia Tarrison and her cronies. Most of them quickly turned on each other in favour of lighter sentences and amnesty. Either way the good senator was being hung out to dry and was flapping in the breeze. Ferrara was being charged with unethical experiments, torture and illegal research. He was trying to cut a deal but wasn't having much luck.

Amidst the chaos, Terminal City found time to dispose of the dead. Joshua and a few others were respectfully wrapped in shrouds and placed on funeral pyres. Max watched the flickering flamed hypnotically as they consumed the gentle dog man's body, Logan hovering at her side (he'd managed to slip in but had to disappear before daybreak). The Doctor, Izzy and Destrii attended the funeral (Kroton opted not too for obvious reasons). Izzy stood next to Original Cindy wearing a simple black dress, while Destrii had traded her usual gold trimmed two-piece for a subdued one-piece purple swimsuit.

Max's gaze slowly shifted to a small group of geriatric transgenics, for the cures had come too late. When the sickness itself was gone, progeria had set in and was irreversible. Lives that had once been measured in decades now only had days left. They would be cared for, made comfortable in the time they had left, but their bitterness and despair was obvious. Logan slipped an arm around her waist drawing her attention back to the dancing flames.

Kroton sat on a toxic beach as poison waves lapped lazily on the shore. Head bowed, his hands rested on his knees, he appeared oblivious to the approach of Francie.

"Missed you at the funeral." Kroton didn't acknowledge her presence. She continued talking, mostly about nothing for a good half hour. It wasn't until she ran out of breath that Kroton eventually spoke.

"I can't stop my hands from shaking. I've done a full internal scan of my neural net and autonomous functions but can find no tangible reason why I cannot cease their involuntary movement. Also I find myself dwelling on my altercation with Joshua. For some reason my cerebral pathways continue to recount the incident despite my attempts to avoid it."

Francie placed her toxic webbed hands over his trembling metal ones. Not saying a word, she simply sat with him throughout the rest of the night.

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The morning after Joshua's funeral the Doctor was anxious to be on their way but the others insisted on saying proper good-byes. Not being one for good-bye the Doctor waited for the others in the TARDIS while they made their farewells. Original Cindy watched Izzy get dressed from the cot they shared in a guest room. Izzy was leaving and Cindy was sure she was never going to see her again.

Izzy for her part had half seriously thought about staying, this was the most comfortable she had been with another woman since Fey. But she needed to see her parents and only the Doctor could get her back. Sitting at the edge of the bed, Izzy leaned forward and kissed Original Cindy softly on the mouth before leaving.

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Destrii and Mole walked side-by-side through the filthy streets of Terminal City.

"So," Mole said puffing on a cigar. "You're leaving."

"Yep."

"Just as well. We'd only end up killing each other anyway."

"Well, one of us would end up dead."

Destrii gave Mole a smack on his backside as they continued on.

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Kroton was waiting with Francie outside the TARDIS for the girls. The Doctor was already inside the ship, anxious to leave.

"Do you have to go?" Francie asked. She liked having a friend she could touch without worrying about killing them. "You could always stay here."

The prospect of remaining in Terminal City had been an appealing one. To be amongst other outcasts such as himself was very inviting. But after his role in the death of Joshua, that was impossible. Although a tribunal of transgenics had acquitted him, he would never be accepted.

When Izzy and Destrii arrived, they all piled into the ship and before Mole and Francie's disbelieving eyes, watched the battered blue box fade out of existence.

EPILOGUE I: Warmth

Max's back was killing her. Presently she was lying on the floor of her Terminal City digs, doing her stretching exercises trying to alleviate some of the strain to her spine. It wasn't helping much. The last of the FHD forces had pulled out today. Max had to hand it to them, when they said six weeks they meant six weeks. Lieutenant-Colonel Makepeace had even stopped in to say good-bye and Max realized she was actually going to miss the matronly battle-ax. A muscle spasm in her lower back reminded her she was going to have to start delegating her responsibilities. In a month or so she would have to step down altogether.

She really missed Logan. He'd had to leave to avoid awkward questions (like why a member of an affluent family was doing mixing with the likes of Transies). She was looking forward to moving back in with Logan, she missed his cooking for starters, but more importantly she missed that secure warm sensation her immediate family surrounded her.

Max clumsily sat up, rubbing her swelling belly. Maybe now was a good time to talk to Logan about moving. With the new baby on the way, Logan's apartment would get even more cramped, it simply wasn't designed for a family. Maybe Sandeman's house, it was spacious enough and thanks to Logan's bureaucratic finagling, he owned it. The only drawback was that she was a public figure and both her and Logan were very private people and living that far away from Terminal City exposed them to more dangers than the average family had to deal with.

There was a knock on her door.

"Come in," Max said trying to get up and failing miserably, settling for a sitting position.

"Hey." Max looked up into the most famous eyes in Seattle.

"Hey yourself," she beamed, holding out her hands for him to help her up.

Logan just smiled broadly, making no move towards her. "I've got a surprise for you." He swung the door open and a pair of blue-eyed midgets in yelling, "Surprise!"

Jack and Eva rushed into Max's astonished outstretched arms. She clutched them tightly, tears swelling in her eyes as they drowned each other out with stories of what they did at Daddy's cabin. She looked up at Logan and mouthed 'Thank you' before taking his hand and allowing herself to drown in the warmth of home.

EPILOGUE II: Chill

After a quick wash and a change of clothes, Izzy returned to the console room to find the center column had stopped.

"Oh, landed already have we," she said. "So where are we?"

The Doctor said softly, "Stockbridge."

Stockbidge! It couldn't be. It took the Doctor twelve tries to get it right and even then it was usually the wrong time zone.

"December 15, 1996 to be exact." The Doctor continued. "So far as everyone you know is concerned, you've never been away."

She could step out those doors and pick up her life right where she left, no questions, no explanations. "You're sure? I mean it's not really 1996 BC and I'm not going to walk out and be captured and burned at the stake by Druids or anything, right?"

"Technically, the Druids didn't burn their victims and secondly-"

"We tapped into BBC broadcast," Destrii piped in. "It gave us the date."

"Oh," Izzy said. "Well, I guess this is good-bye." She addressed Kroton first, her bi little brother, Scarper perched on his shoulder. "Bye Kroton. Don't be afraid to try and learn more about who you used to be. I guarantee it won't be all bad."

"Izzy," he said tapping his chest. "I detect an … ache … but my internal diagnostics can't find the source."

"Its called heartbreak."

"I no longer have a heart," he said sadly.

"Trust me," she said trying not to choke on her emotions. "If you can feel, you have a heart." Izzy hugged Kroton and he returned the gesture clumsily. When they broke apart, Scarper scuttled down Kroton's arm to the back of his hand and chittered sadly. Izzy smiled and scratched between Scarper's eyes. His antennae clasped her finger in a child-like grip. "Later space bug. Keep an eye on Kroton will ya. He gets into almost as much trouble as you know who."

Then she addressed Destrii.

"Destrii."

"Izzy."

Talking to Destrii was like meeting a one-night stand and trying to pretend nothing had happened. The two of them had swapped bodies and briefly shared each other's deepest secrets and feelings. Destrii was not the person she would have chosen to share her most intimate thoughts with, but like it or not, it had happened and that made them … something.

"Bye," Izzy said.

"Yeah," Destrii replied.

They shook hands very formally before turning to say the hardest farewell of all. The Doctor stood by the console looking infinitely old and sad despite his youthful appearance and smile.

"I wish-"

The Doctor raised a hand and said quietly, "No long good-byes Izzy, you know I'm no good at them. Besides you don't want to keep your parents waiting, it would be rude to make them worry."

"Right. Thank you – for everything. What you've shown me and given me. I'll never forget that."

"Your welcome."

"And if you should come across Fey …"

"I imagine you'll hear from Fey Truscott-Sade one way or another. Good-bye Izzy."

"Good-bye Doctor."

Izzy threw her arms around the Doctor in a bear hug, which the Doctor returned. Izzy eventually ripped herself away from the comforting parental embrace and ran, tears in her eyes, out the doors. Without taking his eyes off the doors, the Doctor reached over and flicked the door switch to close. Izzy didn't turn around as she heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS take off, but instead forced herself to walk straight ahead until she reached a familiar road. Then she heard the distant sound of an antiquated motorbike. She looked up the road to see her first friendly face.

"Max," she called.

Her cries startled the rider into loosing control of his bike and careen off the road into a nearby snow bank. Izzy flinched with embarrassment before rushing over to help him.

Maxwell Edison, paranormal investigator, empath, Chairman of the Bureau of Interplanetary Liaison, and considered by everyone in Stockbridge a harmless lunatic, was a blond, scruffy, marshmallow of a man with thick black-rimmed glasses and a camera around his neck. Presently he was staring up at quite possibly his only real friend, whom he'd just last seen in front of Stobbs back in town.

"How did you-"

Izzy cut him off with a big hug. "Oh boy is it good to see you again. How've you been?"

"Uh, okay."

Izzy stood up and continued running. "Great. Sorry but I've got to get home. Come see me when you get back from Limestone Lane, I want to hear all about it. Bye."

"Bye," Maxwell replied numbly, wondering what the heck had just happened.

The Doctor looked at the console controls trying to will himself to pick a destination. He would miss Izzy. He missed them all of course, but Izzy would find herself in a very special category; the same as Ace, Peri, Adric, Leela, Sarah Jane, Jo, Jamie and Susan. The ones that mattered just a little bit more. It was Destrii who snapped him out of his funk.

"Uh, Doctor-"

"Yes, yes quite right. Time we were on our way. Now after everything we've just been through a holiday is just what we need. Caracalla I think, they have some wonderful sensory deprivation tanks, so I hear. Still if that's not your cup of tea, they cater to all forms of entertainment and life forms be they carbon, photonic, artificial and other. They have magnificent oceans, not as awe inspiring as Florana and Coralee, but you won't get bored. We'll try for the late forty-ninth century, Cybermen have largely become a special elective at snooty university study groups. Right, here we go."

As soon as the Doctor's hands touched the controls, one of the console panels exploded and the TARDIS lurched to one side, spinning wildly. Kroton's lower center of gravity prevented him from falling over, but Destrii wasn't so lucky. She had t grab one of the steel pillars to prevent herself from being battered around the room like dice in a cup. While the Doctor worked furiously to regain control, his companions concluded that wherever they were going, it wouldn't be Caracalla.

EPILOGUE III: Is This Normal?

"Come on Evie, your mother's going to be here any minute, bip, bip bip."

Reagan "Normal" Ronald raced around his apartment trying desperately to tidy up before Gem arrived. Usually, Normal's living quarters was meticulously neat and well ordered, reflecting his conservative, anal-retentive personality. Of course that was before he agreed to look after a transgenic toddler. Now it was cluttered with dirty dishes, piles of laundry, and half-eaten food.

"Uncle Rae," Eve called. "Have you seen Mrs. Dingles?"

"Did you put her away with the rest of your stuff?"

there was a pause. "No."

Normal rolled his eyes, but before he could let loose a long lecture about the virtues of putting things back in their proper place there was a knock on the door. Normal panicked. Gem was early, and he wasn't even dressed yet. Meeting a genetically empowered female in bathrobe, boxers and slippers was probably not the best way to make a good impression. He grabbed a pair of jeans and threw on a sweater, yelling, "Be right there."

Checking to make sure he didn't look like a complete slob, he answered the door with a friendly, "Hi, come on in."

"Hey," Gem smiled. "Evie ready yet."

"Just about. Sorry about the mess."

"Thanks again for doing this Normal, I really appreciate it."

"Call me Rae. Only those lazy ingrates I employ call me Normal. And it's no problem."

"Rae," she tried out the word as she reconciled her first impression and other's opinions about him and the man she'd grown to know. He'd been a small-minded, bigot when she'd first met him, denouncing the transgenics as monsters. However he'd helped her with the birth of her daughter, then aided them in their escape. Then taking in her child knowing the punishment for harboring a possible health hazard. He was still too uptight for his own good, but not inflexibly so.

"Well, thanks again."

"No problem. Anytime you need a babysitter just let me know."

"Rae," Gem said as she turned to leave. "We're having a small party in Terminal City to celebrate the end of the quarantine and remember who we lost. Would you like to come?"

normal was taken aback. He couldn't remember the last time somebody invited him to a party – even if it was a glorified wake.

"What, me … well, I don't … I mean I got … Okay, yes I'd love to. Just let me get a jacket and I'll meet you downstairs."

**THE END**

**_Author's Note_**: And so ends my story and giving the overwhelming lack of response, no one read it. How disappointing. Oh well the next one will be better (I hope).


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